When considering how prayer practices might apply to wilderness travels, one of the aspects of traditional worship which almost entirely fails to carry over is communal prayer. In my experience at least, the nature of a wilderness trail like the Appalachian Trail (and hiking in general) is very much solitary. Hikers are allowed and encouraged to have and share whatever beliefs they hold, but the inherent nature of the trail is antagonistic towards community in a traditional sense. Because each hiker is taking on a certain number of miles each day and walking along a path rarely wide enough for more than one person, the trail becomes inherently individual. The individual hiker is encouraged to "hike their own hike" and to engage with others but not to demand that a regular community emerges out of the non-structured environment.
Benson & Wirzba discuss communal prayer in chapter 11, where they speak of the Lord's Prayer and claim "'Our Father' is a prayer spoken in the first person plural rather than the first-person singular, implying that prayer is something done in community" (156). In this spirit, a large chunk of the Bible is spent building and encouraging the community of Christians to support and worship with one another. While it is obviously important to have such a group of fellow believers in one's faith, the authors claim, citing Levinas, that "it is not possible to have an individual relationship with God." (157). One of the reasons why we find this claim to be somewhat outrageous is because we often see examples of how prayer has been distorted when used in public. When we say prayer before dinner around the table, we are obviously aware of the other people who hear what we say and judge our requests and words to God, and therefore we create a very scripted, predictable, and surface-level prayer. When in a public setting we are quick to notice those who kneel on the ground or put their hands up to embrace music. We believe that it is only away from other ears where we can be alone with God and to properly converse.
This is certainly the sense that some people undertake when engaging on a hike on the Appalachian Trail. Though not all hikers are the religious sort, a good deal of them are attempting to find their relationship with God or to come upon a purpose in their life from him. This practice is harder to do in our society, where there is so much noise and input from others that it is difficult to determine what is from God and what is not. Therefore, if one removes themselves from society and communes with the natural world as it was created, the idea is that it is easier to determine what God is saying. Hikers then rarely go to the trail for the purpose of praying with others, though they may do so when the opportunity arises. The communities where this is possible on the trail are always transient: one may come upon a church hostel or a shelter of other believers for the night where discussion and prayer can take place. Or the encounter may be with a sole individual on the path for a couple of hours. It is difficult in these circumstances to feel rooted in a community of believers, because the entire philosophy of rooting oneself is all but thrown away on a thru-hike.
It is obvious that there are benefits and drawbacks to undertaking such a journey from a spiritual standpoint. Benson & Wirzba conclude that ultimately "prayer ... is part of a spiritual economy which is concerned with giving and ... loving" (162). In this view, there is certainly no lack of prayer on the Appalachian Trail, even among those who don't seem to be engaging in it. Giving and loving is the focal point of almost all "trail magic" which graces travelers with food and good deeds to assist their journey. In this view, almost all prayer on the trail is public and communal prayer.
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